2:00 pm thoughts in the middle of a boring lecture.
A young woman surviving the apocalypse with as little change as possible.
Seth and Audrey were on an unplanned day trip to avoid their college's philosophy class the day crap went down. They drove his Ford Taurus up Mt. Wilson to the observatory just to hang out for a while. That "a while" turned into a month when the military pulled into Los Angeles and attempted to put an end to the spread of the outbreak.
Day 30
Audrey woke up to see a small fire burning in the pit she and Seth had scavenged from the nearby neighborhood on last week's run. It had probably been used as a conversation piece in some wealthy family's backyard for summer evenings while their kids laughed, played in the green grass, and begged for marshmallows. Now there was dried blood on the far side of the pit from a rabbit that was roasting over the fire. Audrey sat up and wiped the sleepy dirt out of her eyes with a sigh.
It was a cold morning. The sun rose over the horizon in a red circle of haze where the fire sparked in Los Angeles was still raging eastward. Audrey crawled out of the backseat of the car and for the millionth time wished for a hot shower. Seth sat on the hood of his dusty red car and sharpened his knife. Audrey undid her bun, tossed her long hair over her shoulders, and stared at Seth for a minute.
He barely gave her a second glance when she had appeared. This was unusual. On a "normal" day, Seth would make a quip about how she looked, or some nonsense. It was his way of making sure Audrey was alright each morning. Audrey decided the quip fell to her that day, "Well don't you make a cliche figure. Sitting watching the sunrise, sharpening a knife - just like a regular Hunger Games character."
Seth grinned for a second, but his face fell too quickly for it to be a genuine smile. "You feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I feel great. Today is the day I go home!"
Seth looked down almost depressed and put the knife on the hood. He slid off the car, leaving it more streaked than it already was. Reaching out, Seth took Audrey by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "As your best friend, I should warn you I don't know what is going on down there. I know we've seen pretty bad-"
"The monsters we saw walking are far past 'pretty bad'."
"Los Angeles is a pretty big city and if it all went down - Well, it's going to be dangerous."
"Fair. I expect it to."
"Yeah, well, as your best friend, I promised to get you to your father's house again before your phone died. And I intend to do that, but it's going to take some safety measures."
"Okay?"
"You have to cut your hair," Seth said quickly.
"What the heck do you mean," Audrey couldn't get any other words out.
"I mean, whenever we're in a fight, your hair comes undone and falls in your eyes or gets pulled, or something awful, and it's one thing when it's you and me against one monster, but if there are more..."
Audrey could only stare. Seth handed her the knife, "Long hair is going to get you killed."
"Do I look like I care?" Audrey finally barked.
Seth raised his eyebrows and shook his head no.
"You're right. I keep my hair up for all but like twenty minutes of the day...and night, I might add. My hair, which took me six years to grow out properly, is not going to be shaved off because a virus killed and resurrected basically the whole population. Now, get that rabbit off the fire and let's go." Audrey pushed the knife back in Seth's hand and stalked off into the nearby bushes twisting up her hair into a thick bun on her head.
Seth laughed quietly, looked out towards the city, and asked, "Is three feet of hair really that important?"
"When it's a little more than half of your height, heck yes it matters!" Audrey called from the bush.
Seth chuckled again and moved over to put the fire out.
YOU ARE READING
A Writer's Notebook
RandomThough some be petite, Some hardly elite, I hope you will find, Some thoughts very sweet. Within my dark purse, A notebook immerse, And hope fills my heart, For fine words to verse. Then quick with a pen, The notebook again, Receives these fair thou...